


descend down to the pleasures of the body

by blackmaskfucker (beherrscht)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alpha Persona 5 Protagonist, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Breeding, Come Inflation, Commissioned Work, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feral Behavior, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knotting, M/M, Mind Break, Nesting, Omega Akechi Goro, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beherrscht/pseuds/blackmaskfucker
Summary: Why did Akechi's entire place smell like an omega who hasn't gone into heat has finally exploded when Akechi himself was analpha?Or; Akira gets a text message from his alpha friend (and crush) and visits his place. Things start spiraling down extremely, extremely fast afterwards.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Other(s), Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 212





	descend down to the pleasures of the body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadHyeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadHyeen/gifts).



> commission for jhenya! altho it ended up being a mobgoro trade of some sort. orz sorry i couldn't hit 9k i ran out of words fdsjkfksdhjfkjhsdfkl
> 
> if you are here for perfect in character shuake fluff porn: this fic is not for u. if u are here for kinky shuake omegaverse porn where goro is already a broken cockwhore and akira just falls straight into rut so hard he loses his head this is the porn for u

The house _reeks_ of omega pheromones. 

Akira, the moment he steps into Akechi's apartment, thinks about fleeing down the stairs despite the message he's been sent— _want to see you, kurusu-kun, can you come over, need you so much right now,_ with an unknown address under the text—but steels himself, swallowing around his dry mouth to solve this strange riddle he's been presented with: why did Akechi's entire place smell like an omega who hasn't gone into heat has finally exploded when Akechi himself was an _alpha_?

Akechi Goro is a picture-perfect alpha. The ones you'd find in omega magazines or fantastical soap dramas that are perfectly gentle and polite, with the sharp hint of their charisma poring through. Akira, being an alpha himself who was only surrounded by female alphas, had immediately found a form of kindredship upon meeting Akechi just via their birth-assigned orientation. They've hung out to many popular spots in Kichijouji always led by Akechi, Akira more than happy to back away and be pulled forwards to another game of pool or darts like an enraptured omega. 

Even the fact that Akechi was eventually going to murder them didn't stop Akira's heart from jumping at the news of him joining the Phantom Thieves, albeit temporarily and to disassemble them. He's often spent hours in bed fantasizing about things would have gone differently if he had been an omega, or if _Akechi_ had been an omega... If Akira could ever call Akechi _his omega_...

His heart jumps. What if it had never been one-sided, the affection Akira had for his confidant? Had Akechi knot an omega while thinking about him, then sent the text to him in a moment of weakness?

The house is how a novel would describe a cold-hearted alpha's house: brand-new, impersonal, squeaky clean to an obsessive degree. From his place in the living room only the eerie silence can be heard, only the sounds of light squeaking coming from where the main bedroom is most likely located. Considering he hadn't exactly been quiet walking into the house, he wonders why Akechi hasn't come out and greeted him. He was the one who sent that text, after all.

Maybe Akechi is balls-deep in an omega right now. Maybe the moment Akira walks through that door, he'll find Akechi lost in the pleasures of the body, none of his usual politeness and niceties intact but completely submerged in his alpha nature. Truly himself instead of the infuriatingly kind mask he wears even in the Metaverse.

Akira swallows around his still-dry throat, line of sight scattering around. It's not like Akira has _time_ to dawdle in the living room awkwardly when the thick pheromone is seeping into him and threatening to start his rut. Determined, he takes careful steps forward and twists the bedroom door open, the knob giving in without any resistance just like how the front door had been. 

Akira counts four people as he enters; three suited alpha men only undressed under the waist fucking desperately into their respective place, and the omega. One is mounting the ass, the hole stretched lewdly around the alpha's cock and knot, another has taken place in front of the mouth, furiously attempting to force his knot between the omega's lips, and the final one watches leisurely as he ruts against the hand. None of them is Akechi. 

And in the center of it all, there is Akechi scrabbling against his sheets, his eyes covered up with a black blindfold, surrounded by three suited men who are desperately fucking into his prone body.

Oh. _Akechi_ is the omega. 

The fact doesn't come across as that much a surprise to him as it should have been, despite Akira never having suspected him even once. Akira hadn't completely been oblivious about Akechi faking a fragment of his personality; he knew since the moment they met that Akechi had to be acting on _some_ levels. Akechi had been too much an outstanding picture-perfect example of an alpha, too flawless without any of the faults of each archetype—Akechi had the easy dominance of a charismatic alpha yet none of the overt forcefulness, he had the politeness of a supportive alpha yet none of the beta-like tendencies, and so on. To Akira, Akechi had seemed like less a living alpha and closer to the alpha that televisions portrayed; perfectly dominant beasts that were constantly suggested to be superior to betas and omegas. Akira always found that _odd_ , yet never questioned further because he's simply assumed that Akechi viciously suppressed his faulty side with his position as the media's golden boy. It makes so much sense now with the new information that Akechi is an omega. To Akechi, who only has superficial relationships with most people, only had the media to use as reference to behave as an alpha, that had been how he perceived alphas to _be_. 

It's easy to notice a lack of something, yet it's harder to notice the lack of something _missing_. It's how Akechi had been able to saunter around as an alpha so long without being noticed or questioned, even managed to trick the perceptive trickster into passing such a glaring error off as a simple quirk. Akira feels horror curl in his stomach as the sickness sinks in, he should have perceived it all sooner, should have realized this already, should have popped a few extra rut nullifiers of his own before he just sauntered into an omega's lair— especially one going through heat that they haven't gone through in _months_ —

"Ak—" the syllable comes out all hoarse, his mouth sticky with the come he's generously received from the alpha that's plugged his mouth prior. The blindfolds are skewed upwards now—one of the men must have done that, now Akira can see how Akechi's crimson eyes are glazed over completely by the hormones pumping inside of him. "Aki-ra," Akechi keens, pressing his ass against the dick pounding into him. "'Kira?" 

When Akechi calls out to him, Akira's brain turns itself back on. Reason pushes instinct aside and instantly he is by Akechi's side, cradling his face and rubbing the excessive come off his chin. "Yes, yes, I'm here, Akechi. Don't worry, I'll save you—" 

Before he can even try anything, there's a hand behind Akira's back, a silent threat in and by itself. " _Save_ him?" One of the suited man scoffs. "From what? His own body? Just look at how happy he is," the man signals towards Akechi, mewling happily and eyes rolling back in joy. As if the performance isn't good enough, he uses a belt curled around his wrist to slap Akechi's back once harshly, it earning a masochistic, perverted moan from him. "Akechi-kun, tell your friend how happy you are." 

"'m happy..." Akechi slurs as the pace turns into a punishing one and he lets out a sound that can only be classified as a squeal. "This is... where I belong... All I need... _'kira_..."

Akira can't think. Knowing that this is Akechi's pheromones thick in the air, he suddenly can't breathe, either. He needs to save Akechi, there's no way that Akechi would have willingly fallen in bed with these men when he kept such a thorough care to put up his alpha mask up even in front of Akira, yet Akira can't think, think, _think_ with Akechi slurring out his name like it means the universe to him.

"We let him text you because he kept shouting your name, you know," the men cleaning his cock on Akechi's hands— _Grubby_ , this one becomes in Akira's head—informs him. "Kept asking for _my alpha_... Even when on an alpha dick. That's one hell of a boyfriend you've got there, an omega that stays loyal in the middle of heat," the public security officer sneers. "Nice ass, too. Sorry if we took his virginity. He needed a," a beat, "warning."

"We're not," Akira stutters, taking a step back. "We're not dating," he clarifies, although he can guess that the men already knew from an ugly smile smeared on all their faces. _Ask what they were warning him about. Was Akechi trying to fight back against whoever was forcing his hand to kill me? Did I end up changing his heart somehow? Focus, Kurusu, focusfocusfocusfocus. You are more than your cock, more than your orientation._ "We're nothing like that, we're just friends—"

"Well, _your omega_ doesn't seem to think so," the suited man—this one is the one who had his dick inside Akechi's throat, and had his seed poured down his skin, Akira nicknames him _Seedy_ in his head—scoffs behind him, looming threateningly. Akira knows a thinly veiled threat when he hears one, and doesn't dare to bite back. Even with his experience as a Phantom Thief, he can't win against three people at once, especially considering they'd most likely be armed.

A hand is on his two shoulders and the push makes him stumble forward until his knees are hitting the woods that constitute Akechi's bed, placing his bulge right in front of Akechi's face. Akira can't _move_ , the omega pheromones whiting out his mind to come up with a proper response to this, and Akechi is bringing his own sluggish hands forward to undo the clasps of Akira's belts. "So needy, isn't it?" Seedy comments, his eyes dropping to Akechi who is busy desperately whining and clawing against Akira's underwear. "I've had whores that choked on dick worse than this one."

The derogatory language for omegas aimed at Akechi aside, Akechi's mouth feels fantastic, everything he's expected out of a blowjob and more with his silky feverish orifice enveloping Akira's most sensitive skin. Akira tries to filter out the man's words with Akechi chastely taking his cock into his mouth. The world converges down to just the two of them as Akechi licks and sucks against the head obediently and enthusiastically—the gross man's sexual exploitation dissolving into background noise for the sound of Akechi working itself furiously over Akira's length, taking him deeper and deeper with each bob of his head. Akira finds himself going into rut, and the signs must be so very obvious because Seedy chuckles behind him and Grubby whistles.

Akira slides his cock a little deeper, heart enraptured by the little sounds Akechi lets out around his dick like he's finally won the jackpot. The man behind Akechi fucks into where he's got a grip around Akechi's ass, making little grunts, but when Akira finally remembers him enough to look upto him he's already come with his own cum and Akechi's slick covering his endowed cock. Akira names this one Cocky, to complete the set. Cocky commands the other two—obviously a boss amongst the three of them—from where they're standing, and the two of them don't hesitate as they step back towards the bed to jerk their cocks against the supple skin. 

Thankfully, he realizes that Cocky hasn't bothered to knot Akechi while fucking him. Despite cum dripping down copiously down Akechi's thighs and even swelling inside of him to form a belly bump, come by an unbound alpha, one that hasn't even bothered to knot, has a low conception rate. That's one worry that Akira can lie easy on, although Akira isn't sure if the relief is by the fact that Akechi won't get pregnant by his rapists or by the fact that other alphas haven't impregnated his own omega. 

"You didn't knot him, boss?" One of the lackeys ask the question echoing inside Akira's own head. 

"Knotting is such a fucking pain," Cocky sighs as he lazily wipes his cock on a rare dry patch of skin that Akechi has left on his ass. "Especially one going into heat. We were paid to teach the bitch a lesson, not to deal with the batshit insanity that comes from the whore being pregnant. Nothing fucking compares to knotting an omega in heat, but three minutes isn't worth the thirty years of nightmare," the man grumbles. Akira sees Grubby handing Cocky a cigarette, and the man takes it to his lips and lights the blunt. "They said they needed him afterwards, too. Only a few broken bones at most..." 

The mention of a knot draws out from the mostly-content Akechi, a light tremble running down all over his body. He stops to move, just sucking hard with Akira's cockhead brushing against his uvula, then begins to swallow around it, accommodating Akira's length in his cock. The tightness is unbelievable, and Akira forgets the three suited men smoking their blunts as he moans, completely lost in his own pleasure.

"'kira," Akechi mumbles around the intrusion in my mouth. " _Alpha_ ," he keens, the vibrations from the word causing his mouth to tremble like some toy. "Notm'mouss," he begs, eyes unfocused yet shiny with unknown light.

That snaps Akira out of his own haze, from his frustrating need to flip over and fuck Akechi until all these other scents are gone and it's just Akira on him. Akira staggers as he attempts to remove his dick from Akechi's mouth, although the action is deterred by Akechi's agitated hands clamming down his wrists to push them aside.

Akechi mumbles around the cock still in his mouth, taking a wet slurp of his precome. Frustrated, he hums, "nonononono. Not. Not."

"What? Akechi, I'm trying to stop," he _has_ to stop, the heat is fucking with Akechi's head and also Akira's. None of them is in a sane place they can safely consent, Akira could and they could talk about this. His hip instinctively jerks against his will, dragging his cock into Akechi's mouth even more and causes Akechi to choke on his head.

"God, he's asking you to _knot his mouth_ , alpha!" Cocky howls, causing the other three to laugh alongside him. The realization goes straight to his dick, but he still tries to pull out nonetheless—he can't find out which one it is unless he can hear Akechi clearly. "There's an omega in front of you begging to be knotted down and you're going to say _no_? Your dick defunct or something?"

"But..."

"Look, why are you hesitating? Akechi-kun, you want his knot locked between your teeth and his cock completely inside of your throat, don't cha? Flood you until your stomach is puffy with your alpha boy's come?" The furious nod around his cock dislodges the cockhead from the throat, but Akechi quickly slams his lips down and swallows down until a little bump can be seen on his pale neck. "There you go! Jeez, you think an alpha going into rut would fuck their omega _too_ hard, not the other way around.. "

How is Akira not supposed to give what Akechi wants when he is begging for his _knot_? Akira realizes distantly that his rut is at full force now as he curls both his hands and fucks into Akechi's ridiculously tight throat until he begins to choke.

It's going to be bad. It's clear from how thick the pheromones he secretes that Akechi hasn't gone through heat in months, maybe even years. Akira hasn't gone through his rut ever since he's come to Tokyo through extreme uses of rut nullifiers because he's been terrified that his rut behaviors would cause him to be kicked out of Leblanc—he's always tended to be a little _too_ aggressive during rut as if his body had supposedly been making up for his usual meek behavior that is very not alpha like. Already the rut boiling within him is gnarling for him to take, demanding that he mates his omega. Knot him, bite into him. Akechi is begging with his body, such a needy and prone creature needing to be filled with his come, how can Akira possibly resist?

The last of his reasonable mind screeches at him to run away instead of thrusting into the pliant throat offered to him, choking around his cock at each thrust to offer the delicious squeeze around his dick. That this is _wrong_. Akechi can't handle being pregnant at this age, with Japan's shitty social services system and being an orphan on top of that. Akira clearly has none of the self-control that is necessary to handle this situation considering that he's fucking into Akechi's throat when all consent he can give is heat-drunk and thus automatically invalid. He should flee and call his friends when he calms down.

Trapped between the two extreme thoughts colliding in his head and the hungry mouth that attempts to ram his flat knot into his mouth, Akira silently trembles and thrusts vehemently according to the rhythm Akechi has set up. He moans as his knot tries to press into Akechi's lips, but misses. 

"There's more like it, virgin boy!" Cocky approves as he leisurely digs his digits into Akechi's ass to pull out the copious amount of come, causing Akechi to flinch and whimper around Akira's dick. "Knew you had it in ya!"

Akira has to contact his friends. Akira has to knot his omega's mouth. He cannot do them both at the same time. With his orgasm approaching, it is impossible for Akira to remove his swelling cock out of Akechi's mouth even though Akira knows that would be the morally correct decision.

He can't stop, but he can make it end as quickly as possible. Akira presses his cock in deeper, the knot brushing against his lips. Any further, he thinks he'll end up breaking Akechi's chin yet Akechi only whines and wiggles on Akira's dick harder, desperately taking the lump into his mouth. It should be impossible, but somehow Akechi's lips part even further apart to accommodate the base. Akira can only stare in entranced horror as Akechi bobs his head with enthusiasm, although his movement is severely limited—pulling away too far would result in Akira's knot to slipping out.

Akechi’s tongue is skilled as it rubs the underside of his cock and he sucks routinely to provide tightness in his sloppy mouth—to be this skilled at this, Akira realizes that this isn’t this his first time—but with the way he urgently takes it into his mouth and continues to suck like he needs Akira’s seed to flood his throat, he comes embarrassingly quickly into Akechi’s mouth, coating the back of his throat with viscous seed.

The orgasm takes the edges off, and the weight of what he's just _fucking done_ comes all crashing down the moment he comes back to his own mind. Akechi, completely unaware of Akira's internal turmoil, simply swallows down every drop of Akira's come and looks up, still unsated and needy. The sight is more than enough to make Akira's cock jump again, especially with Akechi still wrapped around his cock because the knot hasn't gone down.

"Not bad, huh?" Cocky comments, hand curled around his half-hard dick. "You wouldn't have believed how much a fucking bitch he's been when he started out. Didn't last long, though, with his heat and a hit of the drug," the others laugh amongst themselves, making Akira's stomach churn. Considering how out of it Akechi is, whatever they gave it is most likely a mix of an aphrodisiac and opioids. "It's what they say, all omegas are whores when you push the right button."

 _Not that I'm any better. I should have known better, but I fucked him anyways_. Akira swallows down his guilt and reaches for his phone. Unfortunately, the moment he undoes the screen lock, a burly man snatches it out from his grasp, and with his knot still swollen inside of Akechi's mouth, Akira can only stumble and struggle while trying to retrieve his contacts. Eventually he has no choice to surrender, because Akechi's holding him down firmly and they refuse to budge even if he has to drag his fingernails deeply into Akira's skin, enough to break skin and draw blood.

"What do you think you are _doing_?" There is nothing _thinly veiled_ about the way how the highest-ranking mob growls, fangs exposed and the blue eyes glowing menacingly. The man—resembling a creature more than a man, Akechi's heat clearly still affecting him—clutches onto Akira's phone so hard that the screen makes a cracking sound. 

Meanwhile, Akechi continues to suck, desperate for another hit of Akira's seed against his throat. Akira shudders, mind whiting out with the pleasure, struggling for words. "Uh. I was gonna text my friends," not a lie, "to tell them. that I'm not going to be available for the next few days," this one is a lie that was becoming more and more true with each moment he stayed like this, suffocated by Akechi's pheromones. "M-May I have my phone back, sir?"

The man takes Akira's phone between his burly hands, flicking his gaze down at the screen. Akira thanks God that he didn't have enough time to type out anything obviously contradictory to the statement. "Enjoy the blowjob, kid. Look at how the bitch is choking for it," and Akechi moans around Akira's dick, looking up with bleary eyes. As if he knows they're talking about him. "I'll send that message in your place. What should I say?"

Something obviously a lie? What if Futaba finds it odd and tries to call him and the men haven't yet left? She could become involved in all this, and if they're breaking into an omega's house and fucking him until he triggers heat, he has that belated, sickening feeling that they don't give a shit about the law. _What kind of shitty people are you aligned with, Akechi?_ "Tell her I have a project and I have to stay over at a friend's house," he hisses between his hips as his two hands grasp the messy curls on Akechi's head, hip thrusting erratically. He comes down the welcoming throat again, which obediently swallows it all down like it had before.

Hopefully Futaba will notice something wrong when he misses school on Monday and track him down, he thinks as the men slam his phone down to the floor and grazes their boots over the screen, irrevocably destroying it. He doesn't think the men will bother staying when their cocks are already flagging and they can make Akira do all the work they're supposed to be doing, reminding Akechi of his station as an omega. 

He tries to pull out, but even with the two orgasms he's had it's still too swollen that it catches on Akechi's teeth when he tries, eliciting a very painful groan from the back of the throat. It is hard to fight the haze now, his instincts more taking over as the clarity that defines him as the untouchable and thorough Joker dissipates away. Thankfully, he doesn't _need_ to think anymore—there's nothing he can do at this point, just let the rut run its course and hope his teammates find him before he does something really, really stupid and irreversible. 

There's nothing he can do but be the alpha to his omega. There's something freeing about that: after years of pretending, behaving and wearing masks, finally being able to unleash his inner alpha. Akira presses forward, even deeper into Akechi's throat until he completely bottoms out. It's heaven, Akechi's passage tight and wet around him, and he even hums and moans in between the suction and the rubs, sending vibration right from his vocal cords right to Akira's dick. 

His third orgasm hits him ridiculously fast, but he pulls Akechi's chin down and pulls himself out as quickly as he can—he's almost afraid he'd break something, either his dick or Akechi's chin bones, but he succeeds with mild pain against his knot somehow—splashing hot, wet come all across Akechi's face and hair. The copious liquid slides down helped by gravity, and drips down his neck and chest. A sense of possessiveness flares within Akira at the picture— _now everyone will know that you are mine, dripping wet with my seed_.

His afterglow is interrupted by loud, twisted ugly laughter from the other group. Akira shivers, his dick already rising to full mask despite the onslaught of orgasms he's brought onto his body, merely by having the cold November air brush against his cock. Despite the heater in Akechi's place being down, Akira feels sweat roll down his forehead and to neck. 

"Akira," Akechi's voice is hoarse from overuse, "please, _please_."

Everything is so hazy, but even the alpha instincts agrees as he falls down to his knees and leaves a sloppy kiss on Akechi's forehead, smearing the cum. "What do you want, honey?" Akira's offer comes out shaky. 

"So empty..." Akechi groans unabashedly, slamming his face down to the floor and raising his ass up, silently begging to be filled again. His eyes are so empty Akira thinks he can see himself reflected of Akechi's cornea. "Fuck me..."

Akira wonders just _how long_ Akechi has laid there before his pride has all been broken down that he knows nothing else but to desire cock, completely submerged in his omegan instinct to submit and accept. He wonders how long it will take for Akira to reach a similar-yet-opposite state with his own instincts, broken down to the point where he'd snarl at his own friends trying to pry him apart from Akechi. Even though his ironforged willpower is something he prides himself in, he knows it won't be long before he has his humanity stripped forcefully from him.

It's been _such a long time_ since he last went into rut.

He reaches behind Akechi with unsteady steps, his weight sinking the mattress further. Akechi's ass is already well-lubed from his body's natural slick and the many, many shots of come he's received from the other men. It flails a horrible side of Akira's instincts, and Akira growls lowly, eyes flaring at the thought of his omega taken by other alphas. His fingers drag into the hole and he drags out the white liquid as best as he can, scissoring and stretching Akechi's already well-used hole until he's even more a quivering mess than he has been, whining and groaning long and loud, desperate to take Akira's dick.

"Jesus fucking Christ, this thing's loud," Cocky groans as he smashes his soft cock into Akechi's mouth, making it choke and moan. Akira notices that the others have already backed away, comfortable in their pants and a deadly weapon rolling in their hands. The resistance within Akira flails, but all thought escapes him the moment his cockhead rubs against Akechi's gaping asshole. "Feels good, huh?" He asks him 

Akira wants to growl. Attack the other alpha that dares to have his cock deep in his omega's throat. Fuck him until Akechi only smells of him, only remembers him filling him up. Yet the glistening knife and pistol is a silent warning for him to play along, and Akira screws his eyes shut as he takes a good grip of Akechi's ass and slides his cock in slowly. Despite how loose he is already from the prior fucks and Omegan physicality, Akechi is perfectly tight and heated around him, dragging an orgasm out of Akira after a few thrusts against the ass. 

The shudder must have been visible because the man is sneering, "you came already? Good to be young, I guess." His hands are tight around Akechi's bangs, pulling them like reins on horses to fuck his throat in fast, powerful bursts. Akira wants to rip his cock out and feed it back in his mouth.

Akira's knot hits Akechi's rim, and he moans so loud that it echoes all the way back to Akira even with the intrusion filling his throat. That's all the permission he needs—he pushes onward until his knot goes all the way in, with just little effort. Akechi holds him inside so well, like he's been made for this. Even at the risk of sounding like some cliche alpha from a soap opera, he can't help but think that they fit together like puzzle pieces. 

Then he tries moving once, and the sensation is so much that he needs to stop to moan. Akechi's walls squeeze him down so thoroughly, excruciatingly tight around him that a grunt escapes out of Akira unprompted. Akira wants to hear Akechi's sounds, want to see him moan and beg for more in that needy, desperate voice of his, his usual demeanor completely broken down just so he can beg for more of Akira, more of whatever he will give. 

He wants Akechi all to himself. 

For now, his orgasm is curling lowly in his belly, snarling to be sated, so he complies, thrusting hard and fast into Akechi's ass, his knot swelling into full size as he loses himself into the welcoming heat. He pounds fast, growling when he can't get into the speed he wants. He presses Akechi's legs apart—they separate until they're parallel without any problem whatsoever, so fluid and flexible like he's shown himself to be in the Metaverse—and presses forward the deepest he can go, until his pubic hair is pressing hard into Akechi's ass to leave marks. He can't stop himself from gripping so hard that there would be purple finger-shaped bruises scattered around Akechi's fair skin later on as he fucks into Akechi with renewed vigor.

It doesn't take long for him to come—has Akira been _this_ pent up? Maybe this is why he accepted Akechi's duel so willingly, because he's been so starved for some alpha action—yet buried this deep into Akechi, he doesn't even flag despite the many orgasms that had preceded. Instead, he only becomes thicker, more desperate to seed his omega, his, his, _his_. The very thought that Akechi's walls are already soaking wet with what isn't his own sperm makes the tissue under his skin tremble, the fury threatening to burst, and all that power goes into fucking Akechi, into breeding him full of his pups—

Akechi moans long and hard, and Akira snaps his eyes up from where his length sinks in and out of Akechi to stare at the mob dismissively wiping his cock on Akechi's hair. The man rubs his now-soft length across, smearing the fluffy locks and making them look sticky. Turning Akechi debauched, like a fallen prince sold off to a whorehouse after the defeat of his kingdom.

Akira wants to hear Akechi speak, admit that he belongs to Akira. He wants those reddened, bewitching lips chanting his name like a hymn that'll bring his wish to reality. At this point it's hard to differentiate what he wants and needs, and the rut is completely taking over his brain functions that differentiating them are no longer relevant to him. Akira comes again, and Goro groans against the mattress. Along with all the come the other men offered him and the ample amount Akira's pumping into him, his stomach is bulging to form a petite belly bump. It makes him look like he's pregnant, and the thought goes straight to his dick.

The men discuss something among each other, but it's drowned by the sound of blood rushing behind his ears. With the sheer _need_ to breed encapsulating his entire being, Akira flips Akechi over without any preamble, enjoying the tired squeak his omega offers in his direction. He's an absolute _mess_ —face and hair besmirched and sullied by come, a heavy blush coloring his cheeks and travelling down to his chest, and pale neck covered with hand and belt bruises from god knows how long of the assault that occurred beforehand. He's still beautiful as he's always been, across Akira at a cafe table discussing some vague philosophy or bloodied up after getting into a full alpha-on-alpha fight at Mementos, and Akira slowly lowers his body to leave a chaste kiss on Akechi's forehead. With his hands curled around Akechi's ankles, this causes Akechi to be practically bent in half, his ankles placed right beside his ears. He doesn't seem to mind, though—only groans and rolls his head back desperately against Akira's groin for more of his cock, even when he's taken the full knot that's now expanding and linking them together.

Akira experimentally rolls his hips, hungry for his mate's every reaction and noise now that he has him all to himself. Akechi doesn't let him down, eyes immediately shutting in bliss as he takes it without any resistance whatsoever, a soft mumble of _Akira_ leaving his lips. Akira can only obey, the new position allowing him to dip even deeper into Akechi's slick body, fucking into him with various angles until Akechi's body spasms and chokes, the minuscule member twitching against the stomach. Akechi tightens to the point where it's borderline painful—he must have come, but there's nothing coming out of his cock, _is he dry orgasming?_ Akira hazily thinks—and Akira comes into the walls squeezing him, adding to the abundant come sloshing inside of Akechi's stomach.

Goro's eyes are unfocused. "Akira, Akira," he begs to the air, pressing down to take him all the way again, then comes to total standstill.

Akira's full knot hasn't gone down yet, but the orgasms are having a toll on his human, albeit alpha, body. Furthermore, Goro looks far too fucked out, having been taken far longer than Akira had been, and Akira has had six orgasms in the short moment between stepping through the bedroom door and now. Goro's omega dick has gone soft, and it's obvious that it cannot produce anything more with how exhausted it is, how spent Goro himself is. Being the alpha, he expertly lifts his omega up and retrieves a soft blanket kicked to the side of the bed, throwing it over his body. His cock still warm and throbbing inside of Goro's body, he feels the exhaustion roll down his muscles.

" _Akira_..." Body gone numb from overstimulation, Goro moans, not knowing what he's even begging for. Thankfully, Akira is a kind alpha that takes care of his mate, knowing his partner's limits. He opens his limb so Goro can huddle into the space that Akira is offering, rolling his body as small as it would go and tucking his head right against his chin. He can feel Goro's soft breaths against his sensitive neck, and once again he thinks about how perfect they are for together.

As Akira sinks into unconsciousness with his omega perfectly curled around him, his cock still hard and throbbing within Goro, he hears sets of fading footsteps. The sound doesn't properly register within his head.

* * *

When Akira stirs from his short nap, the sensation of an omega's pussy tight around him is what he first feels even before opening his eyes. Cranking open his right eye, he sees Goro desperately bouncing up and down his cock, come dripping out from the small gap where and pooling around Akira's thighs. Goro's garnet eyes are still eerily blank from the heat as he rides Akira with quick and short bursts, rising a little and letting gravity drag him down back on his knot.

Rough breathing. Whimpers. The sound of skin slapping on skin. Akira's thigh muscles are taut as he props himself up his elbows, silently watching his omega do all of the work to chase his feverish, perverted pleasure. Akira in turn sinks his legs to the mattress, letting the toes dig into the springs as he hungrily devours every eyeful of the little twitch and shudder Goro gives him.

Utterly naked and on Akira's cock, the blush travelling down all the way to the middle of his chest. Bruises and bite marks scattered on his skin like stars on a night sky, fingerprints against his ribs where Akira has pressed him down as he fucked him rough and hard before. His nipples are pert from the abuse, and his cock is rocking against his stomach with his balls pulled taut in their place. He keens, too far gone to say anything more, to do anything but to oscillate on top of Akira, hungry for more and more of Akira's cock against his ass. Akira licks his lips and scants his hips up as Goro comes down, changing the angle so Akira's crown would rub right against the prostate. It's still not enough for Goro, who only jerks violently then comes to a complete standstill.

Akira takes pity on his omega failing to reach his completion. He removes one of his limbs from behind his back to wrap his hands on Goro's cock. He spasms, immediately tightening and coming with weak spurts at a single brush of Akira's fingers on the pulsing flesh.

"Al...pha..." Goro whines hysterically as Akira continue to rub overstimulated shaft to drag out every drop he can offer. It's impossible for Akira to know how long he's been sleeping without a clock or a window in this room, but he knows it hasn't been long from the way how Goro's come is translucent and watery. Goro, although he must be exhausted and spent to the edge, rolls his hips again and breaks down, collapsing forward onto Akira's chest.

"Yes, darling?" Akira's voice comes out low and guttural. "What do you need, honey?"

"Come inside," he begs, shift his hips despite the overstimulation. "Akira, _please_..."

How could Akira say no? Akira growls, jerking forward and tossing Goro onto his back so he can fuck into him more comfortably. Tossing Goro's ankles over his shoulder he thrusts in without any concern, hard enough that would have caused Goro to rip if he had not been speared on countless alpha cocks the last twenty four hours.

When he finally comes, flooding Goro's insides with so much come that his stomach bloats up even more, like he's a few months into pregnancy. He rubs the belly hungrily, imagining Goro full of his pups as his omega drifts off to a nap. Once his knot goes down enough to pop out of the hole, he regrettably pulls out to give Goro some freedom and watches come drip out of his loose hole. After, he throws a blanket over the two of them and drifts off to sleep himself.

* * *

When Akira wakes up again, it's because of a feather that landed on his nose. Hiccuping to clear his nose, he languidly stretches like a cat, hearing a few joints pop back into their place. The room is an _absolute mess_ ; all available cloth and blankets thrown over and around them to create a makeshift fort around the mattress and most pillows except the one Akira's laying his head upon torn apart and their inner feathers and cotton floating around in the air. The omega's nesting instinct must have taken control, and of course Akechi is the type to nest violently during heat. Akira, who would usually be horrified of such a thought, is deeply submerged in rut himself that he merely hums pleasantly and turns over to see his mate curled up in the center of this anarchy, drifting off into dreamland peacefully.

His cock is sore, but in a pleasant way after a good round. The marathon sex having cleared his insatiable need for breeding to some degree, he curls on his spot to observe his omega. He's perfect curled around his own corner, his shoulder-length auburn hair brushing down his face and his stomach bloated with seed Akira's enthusiastically pumped into him. With him so peacefully asleep, Goro looks his age for once in his life. Akira feels his heart soar as he observes the man he has known to be his soulmate ever since he lay his eyes on him.

A guilty part of his mind screams that he would have said that about any omega that's bedded him during his frantic ruts, but even his reasonable mind knows that's untrue. Akechi has always been the _one_. He's always that that had been odd, him feeling so attracted to an alpha, but alpha on alpha relationships were uncommon not impossible; the world branded him an unnatural criminal, what's being love with an alpha on top of that? He's probably already broken more than ten of nature's laws, being the suave phantom thief that steal's people's hearts at night. Also, the thoughts of fucking an equal, someone who won't immediately submit at the slight hints of dominance, someone whom he must _force_ into submission, makes his blood boil with excitement; it's no surprise that he wouldn't have cared if Akechi was an alpha.

He wonders if Akechi in his right mind will be aggressive like an alpha when they have sex out of heat. The detective may have been acting most of his personality, but it's hard to keep up an act that thoroughly without having a fragment of yourself in the character you play. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of them rolling on the sheets, scratching each other furiously, locked in a violent fight over dominance. Akira pinning him down so thoroughly that only thing Akechi can do is squirm, rubbing his cockhead against the loose omega hole, Akechi offering his neck in a show of submission when he's determined there's no way to upend the round, finally...

The neck. Akira crawls forward to dig his nose into his mate's sensory gland, feeling his smell completely overwhelmed by the heavy scent of vanilla floating in the air lightly around them. He wants to claim Akechi as his. A single bite would be enough to force his own fragrance into Akechi, into his blood vessels to make him smell lightly of him everywhere he went. So everyone who would come across him would know that Akechi Goro is undoubtedly Kurusu Akira's.

 _Not now_ , Akira calms his instincts, curling his hands into the sheets. _He should be fully cognizant when you claim him as yours. He should be aware as you sink your teeth in and make him yours..._

Then Goro wakes up to bring his lips to Akira's cock, and his mind dissolves into static once more.

* * *

**AKIRA** : Won't be home for a few days. 

**AKIRA** : Staying over at a friend's place for a project because it's a big one and the time going home to is better saved 

**FUTABA** : huh 

**FUTABA** : well its sat night

 **FUTABA** : just dont miss school sojiro will worry >:( 

**AKIRA** : Got it.

* * *

"Should have _realized_ that wasn't Akira—" Futaba wails as she clutches her bag tightly and runs after the more fit two women rushing ahead. "If I only figured it out all sooner—"

"There's no way you could have figured everything out with that short conversation. Akira has his quirks; and God knows we can't comprehend his head even if we try," Makoto huffs, voice coming out hoarsely by the running. "It was his fault, going to Akechi's place without warning any of us. I can't believe he did that, _idiot_ —"

"What Mako-chan is trying to say is, I'm sure nothing bad has happened," Haru offers quietly. "Also, if Akira _wanted_ us to find him immediately, he wouldn't have sent a vague text. I'm sure he'll be fine."

 _But what if someone took his phone after knocking him out_ , Futaba wants to scream. _What if Akechi decided to deviate from the plan and killed him first._ Tears father around her eyes. _What if the text was to give him time to get rid of the evidence_. She should have found something odd about how Akechi invited Akira over to his place, to a location where he would easily have an advantage over Akira.

They rush across the hallways after brushing away the security guard and other visitors. Despite the lack of exercise, the adrenaline propels her up seven floors, and they reach Akechi's apartment heaving heavy breaths. When they try twisting the doorknob, they find that it's already open to their horror.

As the three of them pad across the house, they find it that it's still intact and deadly silent. When they slip into the bedroom, instead of images that have plagued Futaba's mind ever since this morning, they are offered the picture of Akira and Akechi huddled together inside of a blanket fort complete with torn pillows and fluttering feathers, body tucked neatly together like sleeping beside each other is something they do every day. The pleasant scent of citrus and clove mixed together with a whiff of raspberry—one Futaba's learned to connect to Akira's natural aroma—and the unfamiliar fragrance of vanilla and roses and vetiver mix together naturally to form the brisk morning air in the stuffy room that has obviously not been ventilated for days. Yet that's odd, because two alphas wouldn't have this strong a scent without going into rut, and Futaba doesn't see an omega here—

Makoto chokes from her place beside the bed, a hand on Akechi's forehead. "Oh, Akechi is an _omega_." A pause. "And they're bonded..."

She can't decide if this is better or worse than the Akira-gets-kidnapped route.

**Author's Note:**

> nsfw twit: @blackmaskfucker wink wink


End file.
